


things you said after you kissed me

by thought



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 15:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3535283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thought/pseuds/thought
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's not a competition," Vanessa says.<br/>She's not wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	things you said after you kissed me

"It's not a competition," Vanessa says, pulling back from the kiss and tonguing the tender place on her bottom lip where Carolina's enthusiasm had mashed it up against her front teeth. Carolina's still in the under suit of her armour, and she's pushed Vanessa up against the wall in a back corridor of the military base. She smells like sweat and gun powder and her hair is a mess around her face.

Vanessa's still in her work clothes, something about her political position making it inappropriate for her to participate on the ground in training drills. She thinks it does the opposite, but the only one on her side in that debate had been Tucker, and he freely admitted that his grasp of political and military power structures and customs were pretty heavily influenced by the Sangheili. Thus Vanessa had found herself relegated to an observation room with Doyle and Dr. Gray and a few tacticians while the Federal and New Republic soldiers ran the largest mock-up operation Carolina and Wash (with the help of a few elderly Fed generals, now retired and eager to pass on their wisdom to a pair of super-soldiers whose primary attack plan was usually blow it up and hope to outrun the blast) had been able to put together.

Carolina's team won. Wash's team had put up a good, and very sneaky fight, and had also included Jensen who is apparently far more creative when it comes to making things blow up that shouldn't blow up than Vanessa gave her credit for. That being said, Carolina's team (and Carolina herself) had performed with a stunning, flawlessly executed brutality that had left their opponents constantly on the defense and retreating. Carolina had seemed to be everywhere at once, appearing on one camera feed only to disappear and pop up on another, speed unit working in rapid-fire bursts so it seemed like she was simply teleporting to wherever she was needed. She'd made full use of the environment, leaping down from trees and at one particularly memorable point sprinting along the top of a chain-link fence in a blur that didn't seem entirely physically possible. Vanessa's ashamed to admit that as mixed as the teams had been between fed and New Republic, with Wash and Carolina leading it had become an unspoken competition between herself and Doyle.

'My Freelancer's better than yours,' she'd thought before she could stop herself, when the final score had appeared on their datapads.

Now, her Freelancer is vibrating with adrenaline, irritably tugging Vanessa's shirt up so she can slide her hands underneath. She huffs dismissively when Vanessa tilts her head away from the next kiss.

"We're not having sex in a hallway," Vanessa says firmly.

Carolina shrugs. "Everyone's gone. And I disabled the security cameras before I came to find you."

Vanessa twitches. "I'm not even going to ask how you had time to that. I trust you'll restore them before we leave?"

"Mmhm." Carolina presses teeth and tongue to her throat, contentedly mouthing a patch of skin that seems to have magically become twenty times more sensitive in the last three seconds.

"You're sure everyone's gone?" Vanessa asks. "There are a lot of people staying here, and I really really cannot afford to be caught."

Carolina lifts her head long enough to glare. Vanessa’s just enough taller that she has to tip her head back a fraction to do it. It's the little things that get to Vanessa. With Carolina it's always the fucking little things.

"We're doing this in an office, at least," Vanessa says. "Somewhere where the door locks."

Carolina sighs, but pulls back. She unzips her underarmour while she walks down the hall, pale skin exposed inch by inch, scars and fresh bruises painted over the canvas of muscle and bone.

Vanessa says, "The contingency planning office should be empty. Most of that work got moved to the Legislature after the ceasefire," and refuses to acknowledge the weird muddled up spark of pride and possessiveness when Carolina swings open the correct door without more than a second's pause to translate the gleaming bronze nameplate.

Vanessa follows Carolina inside, flicks on the light. Carolina kicks off her boots, lets the upper half of her underarmour hang loose around her waist. She grins over her shoulder at Vanessa.

"You're wearing too many clothes, General."

Vanessa shrugs out of her jacket, hangs it on the back of a chair but doesn't go any further. "You seem in a pretty big hurry for someone who assures me we'll be left alone."

Carolina stalks back over to her, one hand trailing down to cup her breast, fingers playing absently over the nipple like she's not even aware she's doing it. Vanessa's gaze follows a rapidly darkening bruise across Carolina's collarbone and over her shoulder. She thinks, in other circumstances, the image might bring forth concern, or perhaps protectiveness, but with Carolina's open, contagiously happy grin and the hard muscle that ripples under her skin, all Vanessa can feel is pride and pleasure. She reaches out a hand when Carolina’s within reach, lets her fingers fan out over Carolina's shoulder blade, tucks her thumb against the thin skin in the hollow of her collarbone. Carolina pushes into the touch, hands falling to her sides even as her teeth drag over her bottom lip in anticipation.

"You were amazing out there," Vanessa says. "You did very well. You're... incredible." She feels a little ridiculous, but she can't keep the sentiment in her chest from spilling over. Carolina preens under the attention.

"There were places where we could've improved," she says matter-of-factly. "But yes, we were really fucking excellent. Do I get a goddamn reward now? You're still wearing too many clothes."

Vanessa brings her other hand up to rest against the side of Carolina's ribcage. She's running hot, skin radiating a fever heat into Vanessa's palm. "That what you're after? A reward? and here I thought you were just working off the adrenaline."

Carolina smirks. "Why not both? Besides, today's been fun. Can you blame me for wanting to keep the endorphins going?"

Vanessa squeezes her shoulder. "Nothing wrong with that at all," she says. "You'd probably have better luck with that if you took your pants off and sat up on that desk with your legs spread."

Carolina's smile becomes a full-blown smirk. "Oh yeah? Because like I keep pointing out, I'm not the one still entirely covered here." She bounces up on her toes to kiss Vanessa again, hands going for the buttons of her shirt. Vanessa slips her hand from Carolina's shoulder to the back of her head, getting a firm grip in her hair and tugging her back. With her other hand she catches Carolina’s wrists, holding them in front of her. She's more than happy to let Carolina continue if that's what she wants, but Vanessa's learned that in certain situations she needs to act swiftly and decisively in order to snag that precise spot in Carolina's brain that has her going quiet and easy and focused.

"Carolina?" She waits, keeping a steady pressure on her hair but letting her hand loosen to a barely-their touch on her wrists. Carolina shutters hard, and her mouth actually falls open a bit.

"Yes," she says. "Fuck."

Vanessa combs her fingers through Carolina's hair, careful to avoid the tangles. "Good. That's good, Carolina. Now you're going to finish getting undressed, go sit on that desk, and I'm going to get my mouth between your legs until you've come at least twice. And after that you can return the favour, but I'd like your hands behind your back while you do so." Carolina's spent so long within a structure where her goals were undefined and unattainable that Vanessa's found it helps to lay out a precise framework and expectations so Carolina can be certain she's achieved her goal.

Carolina slips out of the under suit only a few steps back from Vanessa. She glances up with a pleased little grin when Vanessa notices her lack of underwear, the wetness glistening between her legs already. She hops up on the desk easily, long legs swinging as she settles herself. Vanessa's jacket is hanging just within her reach, and before Vanessa can stop her Carolina's snatched it off the chair and spread it out under her back so the fabric frames her torso and shoulders.

Vanessa sucks in an uneven breath and takes a minute just to stare. Carolina remains still, and the longer Vanessa makes her wait the less tense she is, smile slowly easing from manically anticipatory to something blissed out and content. When Vanessa finally touches her, just a hand over her hipbone, Carolina arches up into the touch and when she settles back her eyes flicker shut. Vanessa strokes a hand over the bruises on Carolina's shoulder. Drags her nails hard across the skin just beside one of the larger ones and wonders when the marks that Chorus has left on Carolina stopped being skin-deep.


End file.
